Not Like Them
by LivingNexus
Summary: Dante confronts an army of demons, and the demon within himself
1. Not Like Them

They came. They always came. Even in this desolate place, they came for him. Not a human for miles, yet he always felt them coming. It scared him sometimes, made him wonder if he was becoming more like them. But he always beat that thought down before it could surface completely.  
  
He stood in the middle of the abandoned street, his red pleather overcoat ripped and torn, his white hair a total mess. He needed new boots soon, or they might just fall off of him. His sword, Alastor, pulsed in anticipation. That was the only thing not worn down. It was as sharp as ever.  
  
He tensed. They were getting closer with every passing second. He would greet them here; he would run no further. Dante gripped his guns tighter, turning to face the inevitable. His guns needed cleaning too, and soon, but he could stand this one battle.  
  
Dante sighed and focused. Demons. Pure, heartless, mindless demons. He was not like them. He had a mind of his own, he had a...soul? Dante shook his head. No time to think about that. No time...  
  
Abruptly the first demon appeared. It was nothing he had encountered while in the mansion, or in Mundis' domain. It had four slender arms attached to its skinny, wrapped body. Its head was a pole of flesh, with no eyes that Dante could see. On each of the slender arms was a slender chainsaw.  
  
Dante dispatched it with a few strokes of his sword as three more appeared. It always started out like this. A few here, a few there, and then they come forth in a flood. Dante killed the next few while more appeared, severed limbs dissolving into black goo and ash, chainsaws groping for him.  
  
A new demon appeared, barely taller than his knee. It was shaped like a turtle, only its flesh was blue, and the 'shell' was just a ball of muscle, and its head looked nothing like a turtle. Coming from the ball was a large arm, with a pincer. Dante found the quickest way was to just run it through, but most times he had to get rid of the pincer first.  
  
He fought on, through the masses. Black blood stained his already covered overcoat and splashed his face. Green slime covered black blood. Red blood mixed with black and green. Dante fought his endless battle.  
  
He slashed, cutting a chainsaw demon in half with one powerful blow. Suddenly he back flipped into the air, sheathing Alastor and unholstering Ebony and Ivory, his two pistols, in one smooth movement, dodging chainsaws. Dante pumped a demon full of lead before it hit the ground, killing it as he landed. 'One more. Thousands left'.  
  
New menaces appeared. Flying, grotesque things with two sets of wings and two heads. Their claws could rend flesh easily, he found out, and it was best to keep his distance. He turned his attention to them.  
  
He shot three down, still backing away from the slow moving chainsaw and turtle-like demons. The flying demons were always limited in number, and he could fight the others once he dispatched them.  
  
One of the brave ones dive-bombed him, and Dante jumped, pausing in mid-flip to blast it with his pistols, and finished the flip as it fell dead. He had no time to pause, though, as a chainsaw almost chewed his face. He jumped back, lighting up the demon before him, and holstering Ebony and Ivory as it dissolved in a black haze.  
  
'I tire of this'.  
  
Dante crouched, and time stood still. He called upon his demon heritage, his father's side, his awful power. Dante's skin seemed to dissipate like smoke as it was replaced by his demon form.  
  
Dark horns grew from his head, and blue lines traversed his rough, black skin. His demon eyes, blue and electrifying, looked upon the lesser demons with distaste, as he drew his sword Alastor. Spreading his leathery wings, he readied the assault.  
  
The demons seemed to tremble as he flapped his powerful wings once, sending him sailing through the air toward his enemy. One slash took four demons, another three, another five. He tore through their ranks like a hot knife through warm butter, demons flailing in vain to strike him as Dante cut them down.  
  
The unstoppable force that was Dante slashed countless times, rending unworthy flesh, tearing limbs and distorted bodies. He fought ruthlessly and with a vengeance. He fought until his strength ebbed and his awesome power fell away. He fought until every last one of them was scoured from the earth, and he lay on all fours, panting. After it was all finished, only one thought ran through his mind in an endless cycle.  
  
'No. Not like them. Never like them.' 


	2. Surprise Surprise

Dante wanted to leave as fast as possible. He knew he didn't have long before they would be on him. The city made him nervous, because if they did come, they would slaughter all in their path. After all, they had no compassion. Luckily, he had no reason to stay more than necessary.  
  
As a result of the recent events, Dante found himself jotting things down so he could remember them. Any scrap of paper would do, and he always carried his signature Devil May Cry pen with him. He mused to himself that he would have to get a new one since he had changed the name of his business. Oh well, no time for that now.  
  
Dante tallied up the cost. Gun ammo, for pistols as well as shotgun. The other weapons were lost in the collapse of the mansion. He had saved the shotgun, though, and it had remained loyal. Next- polish. His sword and guns definitely needed it. Foodstuffs and some random other items, and he would be good as gone. And making record time, he mused.  
  
Also on his list was a new red overcoat. The things were damn hard to find, and he always had to place an order for a custom job. He had originally seen it in a video game. The main character had worn a red overcoat, and though he didn't remember much from the game, the red coat stuck in his mind. He had searched throughout three years of his life before he found a place willing to make it, and he always went there when he needed a new one.  
  
The final thing on his list was 'sleep', which was jokingly added when he made the list. As he left the weapons shop, his sorry excuse for an overcoat lined with ammo, he sullenly marked through the last word and sighed deeply. He couldn't sleep, not until he got away from the city, and likely not then, either. Good thing I'm half demon, he thought with a twinge. He didn't know what it was a twinge of, though.  
  
His plans were foiled, however, on the way to the grocery store. His record time was dashed to the floor and shattered to tiny bits by a totally unforeseeable and incomprehensible surprise. Trish.  
  
Trish, he remembered, had left one morning with no word as to where she was going or what she was planning. She was just gone when he woke up one morning. After the demons started hunting him, he figured that her disappearance was linked somehow, but he had no way of knowing. It had been almost two months now since Mundis, and most of that had been spent fighting until he passed out on the ground from exhaustion, He had all but given up on seeing Trish again.  
  
So you could imagine his surprise when he almost ran into her while rounding a corner.  
  
She stood there with her hands behind her back, eyes downcast, as if waiting for him to round that fateful corner. He knew that she knew he was standing there, staring disbelievingly. She did nothing, but her stance spoke of guilt and a pleading for forgiveness. He finally found his tongue again, amongst all the wreckage in his mind.  
  
"T-Trish! God, where the hell have you been? And what are you doing here?" He asked expectantly. Trish's eyes darted up to meet his. Her mouth opened, then shut, then opened again, and shut again. Finally, with an exasperated sigh, she grasped his hand and hauled him down the street, with a desperate "Follow me" thrown over her shoulder. 


	3. The Nightmare Begins

Trish hauled Dante around countless corners and across numberless streets, Dante complaining and cursing all the way, before she finally stopped in front of an old-fashioned looking ten-storie building. And the pause was only momentary before Trish dragged him into it.  
  
The lobby was very businesslike, with tiled floors and white walls and ceiling, most of the people wearing suits and carrying briefcases, artificial light glowering from above. The most noticeable thing in the room was the huge receptionist desk, and behind it on either side were two elevators. To the left and right of the elevators were long hallways with doors here and there.  
  
The black-haired receptionist looked up at them and smiled a perfect businesswoman smile. "Ah, Trish. You must be here to see the Council. They are waiting on floor 5." Her tone was friendly, but crisp and firm, and with that she went back to her work.  
  
Trish pressed the square button labeled "5" when they got into the elevator, and crossed her arms. Dante heaved an exasperated sigh.  
  
"You still haven't told me what this is all about, Trish."  
  
"You'll see," she said curtly, and Dante knew she would say no more. Abruptly, the elevator halted with a 'ding' and Trish walked briskly into the room before them. Dante had half a mind to go back down to the lobby and leave, but he decided to at least amuse his curiosity.  
  
Dante walked into a large, no, huge room, with the biggest oval- shaped table he had ever seen. There were eighteen chairs, nine of them occupied. One man sat at the head of the table, and eight sat in pairs adjacent to one another. Dante saw that Trish had taken a seat at the opposite end as the nine men, but he preferred to stand, for the moment.  
  
Suddenly Dante's senses tingled. He narrowed his eyes at the men and examined them closely. They certainly looked human, but he knew better. Demons. No, something more...  
  
Dante's hands drifted to his guns, but the man at the head of the table caught his movement.  
  
"There is no need for that, son of Sparda." The man said.  
  
"So you know me...?"  
  
The man raised his hands in a helpless gesture and shrugged. "Who doesn't? It seems you have made quite a name for yourself."  
  
Dante rested his arms on the chair directly opposite the man speaking. "No, I have always been the son of Sparda."  
  
The man laughed a humorless laugh. "Indeed you have. But now you have drawn more attention to the fact. And to yourself."  
  
Dante sighed, frowning. "If you'd get to the point, maybe I won't shove your—"Trish his him in the arm before he could finish his sentence.  
  
The man frowned also. "If you insist. We know you have been running, son of Sparda. Running from demons that, thus far, you have barely been able to hold off. We sense them just as you do, although maybe not as keenly." One of the men snorted, but was ignored.  
  
"We can help you with you're little problem, son of Sparda, but we require...assistance."  
  
Dante rolled his eyes. "You know, the 'son of Sparda' has a name."  
  
The man frowned. "Dante—"Dante nodded, giving him permission to go on.  
  
"You have the Nightmare Beta, yes?"  
  
Dante paused, then shook his head. "No, not any more. It was lost on Mallet Island, along with almost all my other guns."  
  
A nervous murmur erupted from the rest of the men, but a raised hand from the man at the head of the table. "That only makes our job harder, since we cannot study it directly. Unnecessary risks must me taken." The man rubbed his chin thoughtfully.  
  
As Dante started impatiently tapping his foot, the man spoke again. "Our intelligence has gathered information that tells us the whereabouts of the blue prints for the Nightmare Beta. It's in an out-of-the-way facility, as to not arouse suspicion, but shouldn't be too hard to find. The defenses are heavy, however, and currently we do not have the, ah, manpower to infiltrate and retrieve these documents."  
  
Dante snorted. "Let me guess, you want he to be your Labrador retriever. What kind of help are you offering to make this worthwhile to me, huh?"  
  
The man smiled. "That is confidential until we receive the blueprints."  
  
Dante snorted. "Typical."  
  
"Do not worry, Dante, we will make it worth your while. I promise." 


End file.
